One Moment, Please
by Midvalley Petals
Summary: A familiar crimson haired boy from the One Year War dreams of a home to go back to.


**One Moment, Please**

The delicate layer of fluff below him could be seen as the white flakes continued to descend. He had found himself walking slowly in the cold twilight, as he heard his soft steps into the snow. His apparel was simply a pair of blue jeans, normal tennis shoes, and a warm, cotton coat. The walking continued as his surroundings were covered with snow, but the branches still stuck out as if to never die. The white trees around were vast and huge, but were not the dominant landscape. 

He found himself here again. At night, he would wander, as if he had no place to go; that this was all he had. In day, he would find his feet and legs mysteriously moving, as if they were controlled by destiny, and soon after, he would only see the trail behind him. 

It was as if God had intended him there. 

The pale blue eyes traveled to the ground, and most seen was the ever redundant fluff. The child just stood there, no intention of moving. The bright flakes still made their destination clear as the snow began to compile onto him. And yet, his body stayed immobile. His eyes still focused on the square shape; snow atop of it, the grey shade not making an edgy appearance at all. 

A name was engraved in it.

His eyes appeared the same dull hue that they had been before. 

And yet, nothing had changed.

Why hadn't he changed? Or why hadn't he been better? Why didn't he realize? He hated his newtype powers for the one reason. 

Long ago, he would have been thrilled to prove his superiority, that only _he_ could pilot it effectively. But after what he did, after what _he_, himself, did, the poor child had to hate himself; even if he were to repent, even if he had lifted the crew so. 

Memories. Memories of him and Frau, when the day would begin, and she would be over every morning at the same day, as if it were a routine, came. She would make him eat, and make sure he wasn't alone. Even on Whitebase, she would smile each day, being optimistic of the day ahead. Did he ever thank her for that? 

Just one solemn memory made him crave that feeling again. To be happy is to be free of burden, but... Frau was happy with the world she had, and burden floated freely. 

It could have been him. 

But it wasn't. 

He began to brush the cold snow off his unruly crimson strands. The boy sighed quietly, and his breathe could be seen flying high in the freezing sky. 

A voice spoke out, a little rough and raspy, yet not too deep. A voice that lost it's innocence long ago. A voice void of emotion. 

"I want to go home..." 

And as fast as the boy appeared, he had left. His back turned to the grave as he continued to walk back to where ever home was. Where ever home was.

"Amuro? Amuro...?" Faintly, a soft voice rose into his mind. Amuro Ray slowly opened his tired eyes, each one dully shining, trembling as if they lost everything.

"Yes, Sayla, I'm here..." Amuro's quiet voice rung in her ears, as he looked at the monitor of Gundam. His bruised hands were clenched hard onto it's control, and his feet were heavy on the petals below. The newtype breathed heavily, like he was in his own battle. A shallow smile, yet haunting in it's own way, was quickly flashed at the blonde communicator.

"Come back home, Amuro." Sayla looked a little spooked by the expression Amuro wore. As soon as she spoke those simple words, his darkened eyes grew a little deeper. Unnoticed by her fellow 'soldier', he nodded, and quickly shut the monitor off. Quickly, Amuro released all of it's controls and just let himself float in space. 

He unbuckled the restraint Gundam had on him, and rapidly hugged his knees. Once his eyes were closed, he shut out the world of constant beeps and blips that Gundam sent surging through his body. Not a sniffled, not a sob, and not even a whimper came from Amuro. 

TREVOR TREMASTON  
0062-0079 UC

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Gwen B. Written on the day of December 11, 2001, but typed and edited on December 17, 2001. For more, visit her FF.Net profile, or her webpage, soon to come. Thank you. 


End file.
